Ermm….*ignores cobwebs* Hello bloggers…..I know…..”where the hell has she been”? Hey…no form Rambo for there oh, I know you missed me and you were worried about me sef and sincerely, I missed everyone too. Ok, I didn’t miss MsJB a.k.a @JanylBenyl and Didi a.k.a @itsDiDi, these 2 wannabes lovers??? I didn’t miss them. Please before I continue, follow on twitter @Ameikpe, that’s if you don’t want me to be missing you oh :D. (let me wait for those two to start wagging their tongues).
So many things have been happening, even blogger don change format, na so…I wan log in, I saw *forgotten your password? Click here* I clicked…2 days before I could see my blog and that’s my excuse for being away, I forgot my password!!! And also,I am working on my books—a novel and an anthology, I know all of you know what that means, I never knew till I joined NaijaStories and I’m heading back there soon.
As some of you know, my life is a dramatic whirlwind and I manage to make people feel the breeze but I didn’t expect what happened last week. I was invited to do a poem at a big man’s birthday in my state, flights tickets and other deals were covered, yes, I’m a celeb :p. my dear momma bought me one of the hottest dresses I had ever had a chance to set eyes on, a God-knows-it’s hot RIVER ISLAND black and maroon dress, I wore one of these over coloured shoes from China, very cheap but very high and that’s what I was after oh, did my hair at B&B at Abj and felt like Glo then I went to present the poem.
The birthday was dry, to be candid, he’s a clergy man, a Bishop but mehn it was over-dry, kids presented 2 songs, loads of political talks and book launch, opening of so and so foundation, one terrible sleepy over-weight igbo lady singer ruined the evening, ohh choir did a presentation and I did my poem when the “party” was almost over and one of my fav artist “PAT AKPABIO” from my state did a song.
By Tuesday evening, my mum called me and said “don’t sleep till I come back”. Of course I slept, mumy’s meetings finishes by 2am and I wasn’t in a club jor. Well, she came back and said something was up.
Apparently, the man clocked 50, my poems for 50 years are usually humorous and a very funny, I’d post one soon but in the spirit of writing I wrote this line
From “Ambi,let’s go upstairs and make passionate love” it will be “ambi, you know there’s no lift in this house, I can’t do stairs and passion, please choose one” If you don’t understand that bit…well, ask me.
Brothers and sisters, no, sisters and brothers, that line got me into trouble. The chairman of the planning committee of the birthday wanted to see me urgently, people were calling in and out asking who the hell I was to write such rubbish…Imagine, call a poem I wrote in 6 hours rubbish…Make God punish that man sef…mtchew!!! Some people said that it was too sensitive-agreed, some said it was too insolent-HOW? Some said I was too bold-agreed, some said I was stupid and insultive-??? Some said that it meant I want to make passionate love to him-AGREEDDDDD…mehn, I heard so many things, when my mum told me all of these, I started crying, yes oh,I cry a lot, a whole lot, I’m that cute. The chairman had called her along with others and they tabled my poem…I could imagine my mum on that table and tears flowed from my eyes, the next 3 days were crazy. My number leaked!!! I had 32 messages in one day telling me of how mannerless I was. Let’s not talk about calls. My mum kept saying “baby…calm down,good writers face criticisms and you should always expect this”. Please, if you want to criticize me, go to the dailies.. PUNCH, VANGUARD, THE SUN, TRIBUNE, NEW YORK TIMES, LONDON TIMES, OK MAGAZINES, SPANISH TV, CNN, LTV, SILVERBIRD, E! ….. don’t call my line!!!
I felt like buying a gun. In all these turmoil, my daddy wasn’t even aware, and I couldn’t tell him. He kept asking why my phones were ringing all the time and I was like people are appreciating the poem. You’d like to know, for my dad, there’s only one solution to every problem- FIGHT. The winner of the fight leads the way. So, I couldn’t talk to him.
What made me feel really bad was, the celebrant didn’t even pick my calls and he’s my God-father, I felt so terrible, I mean, we gist and talk and laugh everyday and then you are angry with me and you won’t even tell me? I cried again.
Friday morning, I couldn’t stand that anymore, I left for abj, in the evening, my mummy called to say The chairman came to see me but I had left for the airport, she said I needed to be cautioned and groomed… I couldn’t believe it, cautioned and groomed…at that instant, my head torched.
I picked up my phone, called one of my people and I arranged to go back home, I was angry. Get this, for every person that called and sounded diplomatic with me, I apologized honestly and sincerely, I was ready to take full responsibility for the effects of that night, the poem presentation was one of the very few entertainments and I was responsible for any uproar but please, calling me names?
Well, I did something I don’t usually do when in crisis, I prayed!! And I cried. It hurt me to be in the center of another storm, I’ve had enough in this my 22 years on earth and I needed calm. I felt better. I cancelled my flight schedule and I told my mum to tell them I was sorry.
Sunday evening, my mum called to say, I was part of the message being preached, my ex called and said his phone has been bombarded with calls. I couldn’t imagine how he felt, I sincerely wished I had told my daddy, even if he would fight and kill.
I still don’t understand what goes through some people’s head, it seems to me that people wake up with this evil intention in their hearts and they start scheming Rambo, the people criticizing have never read any literature book, the only poem they know is the first stanza of *twinkle, twinkle, little star* and if the poem *my mother* hadn’t been put in a song they wouldn’t know it but they run their mouth and I knew the reason, that line was sexual, tell me who know about sex? What’s the ish in it anyway? I mean *passionate love* cause all these oh? Yes, the deputy governor as there, yes, the wife of the SSG which is a friend to my mummy was there, yes arch bishops and all of them were there? Don’t they have passionate love with their spouses even if it’s the old school way? Ok, I shouldn’t have said that because it was a religious party, wth is that anyway?
Well, things are getting calm now and I’ve learnt a lot: GOOD WRITERS WILL ALWAYS FACE CRITICISMS. I think I’m ready for that phase of my life.
That picture up there…that’s the man I did the poem for, he’s my God-father and I LOVE HIM PASSIONATELY.
Good to be back….bisou. happy valentine.